Piece by Piece
by JerichoholicAnonymous
Summary: Seth will never stop fighting for Dean.


_Hello there! Here's an Ambrollins drabble that I came up with on a whim. One of my absolute favorite stories that I've written so far is One Look At You. I thoroughly enjoyed writing in the second person then, and wanted to experiment with that POV again. If you do like it, which I hope you do, please leave a review!_

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He leaves the door open for you to leave. He leaves it open all the damn time. He wants to push you. He wants to drag you out. But you never leave.

You fight with him every so often. Sometimes, the fights are small, completely and utterly meaningless. Sometimes, they start out of nothing and grow into an incomprehensible mess of a situation. Other times, the fights are massive, stemming from a deep rooted issue that's been brewing for weeks. They're volatile. They're explosive. They're the worst.

In the midst of the yelling and screaming and cussing, Dean always gives you an out. He always invites you to break it off. He always implores you to leave him. He'd deserve it, he tells you. _You_ deserve better, he explains to you. You'll find better than the trailer trash that he is, he assures you. He's not worth the pain and agony that you're going through, he belts out.

Once, he literally opens the door and pleads with you to walk away. He tells you to run before it's too late, before you taste the sick, bitter venom he spews out everywhere. " _Go_ ", he howls, and it hurts. You can't pretend that it doesn't hurt, because how can your lover of three years be so willing to let you go like that? How can he be so hellbent on pushing you out of his life? How can he so easily give up on you after everything you've been through?

But you know better. You know him like the back of your hand. You know he doesn't want you to go. You know he'd break apart at the seams if you took him up on his offer. You know he'd crumble into a million little pieces. You know he's trying to save you from himself. But he doesn't know that you don't need any saving. And if you do, you don't want it. Because without him, without Dean oozing out of your every pore and consuming your entire being, _you_ 'd break apart at the seams. _You_ 'd crumble into a million little pieces.

So you stay rooted to your spot. You don't take a single step over the threshold. You slam the door shut behind him and kiss him against the frame with all your might, because fuck him. Fuck him for telling you to leave him, fuck him for telling you to end it and fuck him for thinking that you could ever go on without him.

He clings onto you, settles his claws deep into you and he kisses you back with the same primal need you feel in the pit of your own stomach, the same need that speaks more volumes than words ever could, the same need that screams ' _I'm sorry, I can't live without you, don't ever leave me_ '.

He doesn't have to say it for you to get it. You'll never leave. You can't. You're so fatally in love with him that it's irreversible. There's no going back. There's no back pedalling. Whether you sink or swim, it's with him. It's with Dean. You won't do it alone. You can't. Not now, not ever.

You sometimes feel tears of regret on your cheek and you know you weren't the one to shed them. It steals your breath every time, knives plunging in the depths of your core. For all the world knows, Dean Ambrose is a lunatic, a nonchalant nutcase without a single care for anything or anyone. But nobody sees the cracks beneath. Nobody sees the scars and ridges that mar his body and soul. But you do. You see them, clear as crystal. You're the only one he's ever allowed to see. You're privileged. You're lucky. You could never walk away from that.

He's the best thing that's ever happened to you. No one has ever made you feel more alive. No one has revolutionized your world like he has. No one's taught you more about yourself. No one has taken you to hell and back and somehow made you feel more complete. No one has ever intrigued you like he has. He's a mystery you unveil everyday. He's wounded but you try to heal him. He's the most beautiful broken mess you've ever seen, and he loves you like no one else ever has. And in your own twisted way, his self-deprecation, his never ending feeling of unworthiness, his eternal wish to put your happiness before his', make up for the purest form of love you've ever received from anyone.

He can hold the door open for you as much as he wants. He can tell you to leave as much as he pleases. But as long as your heart still beats, you won't take the bait. You won't succumb. You won't leave. You just can't. You'll put him back together piece by piece instead. And if you can't, you'll simply die trying.


End file.
